Oscar de la Renta / Fall 2013 RTW

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As the audience surged to congratulate Oscar de la Renta on his fall collection, that exhilarating moment at a show when there doesn’t seem to be quite enough air or space in the room, Diane von Furstenberg’s appraisal of what we’d just seen rang clear and true. “It was,” said DVF, “a beautiful conversation.” She’s referring, of course, to the dialogue between de la Renta and John Galliano, which has been going on since the latter took studio space in the former’s midtown atelier some time ago. Whatever they fell to talking about was clearly stimulating; this was an elegant collection that fused rigor and romanticism with a flourish and was a powerful reminder of what each designer does so brilliantly, which is to say, cut and construct like nobody’s business. We’ll get to the clothes in a minute, but in the meantime, another thought struck about this working arrangement—the reminder of what a gentleman Oscar de la Renta is. In an industry that nowadays can seem just a little too cutthroat and fast to forget in its surge to satisfy its global ambitions, de la Renta’s simple yet generous gesture to Galliano—extending the offer to come help, and start to work again—feels very real and human-scaled. On that count, bravo Oscar.

And as for the clothes. . . . The show opened with a strong statement on the art of construction. We’ve seen plenty of that these past few days, clothes cleverly—sometimes too cleverly—worked and worked and worked, with all manner of tricks built in. There were none here. Instead, a powerful opening group of coats and suits, in black, teal, and aubergine, which relied solely on the expert manipulation of silhouette and fabric. That meant bustle-like volumes worked into the hips of coats that had been strictly belted (with alligator pelts!) or the addition of a cyclone-like swirl of fabric at the collars of jackets, some in wool, others in leather; all of these were teamed with lean, lean, lean skirts to the mid calf, cloches with raised crowns, and slouchy gloves, in colored leather or silk tulle, the latter a rather Galliano-esque whimsy.

From here, the collection moved into experimentation with a toile print, blowing it up, say, across a full skirt in teal and ivory, or rendering it as gold bullion embroidery over a fox-trimmed black leather coat. And to close, a series of fishtail columnar evening dresses, not to mention two full-blown beaded ball dresses, which sang joyfully with intense color—citrine, mulberry, shocking pink. All classic and classically gorgeous Oscar, but with hair and makeup—heavily kohled eyes, Ophelia-in-the-rushes hair—that was distinctly Galliano. Still, in the end, this isn’t a game of spot-the-presence-of-another-designer. If his postshow glow was anything to go by, de la Renta looked like the whole thing had been an absolute riot, and Galliano, who has maintained a zero profile throughout the process, gets to make a welcome return to the fold. Bravo, again, Oscar, and bravo, too, John.